The nameless piece was a brilliant success. The critics said the pathos
was wonderful. Both performers seemed to have but one soul between
them, as in truth they really had. Lord Alison sat like one petrified
as the music ebbed and flowed, but only Giovanni noted that he did
not join in the applause that followed. It cut him to the quick, this
negligence; and when the guests clamoured for an encore he selected a
different piece, greatly to their disgust.
After all the company had gone and that curious dreariness that
invariably invades the scene of a recent merry-making spread through
the rooms, Lord Alison, pale to the very lips, called Giovanni into the
study.
"Take a cigar, boy, and settle yourself to hear a story," he said, as
he closed the door.
Giovanni obeyed, and sank into the corner of the very sofa he had
occupied the first time he entered the house.
After a pause the elder man told a strange tale that was also a
confession. He told how his brother Jack, his big brother Jack, the
poet and musician, had vanished in Italy long years before. Rumour
said he had married a singer whose beauty had captivated him, and that
he feared to return lest his uncle, Lord Alison, should disinherit
him. As time went on, Arthur was recognised as the next-of-kin, and on
succeeding to his father's property had quitted Scotch law and come to
London, where he soon found the gay life of an heir-presumptive to a
great title indispensable to his happiness. Now and then the dread of
his brother's return painted black spots on his sun, but he strove to
erase them, and generally succeeded.
Then came the strange evening when he played his brother's
composition, a relic of college days, and was answered from outside by
an unseen player. From the first he had no doubt who the child was; and
the packet given him by the dying woman confirmed his suspicion, as
well as the worn little dressing-case which he remembered perfectly.
He resolved to reveal all when Giovanni should come of age, but the
fair face of Hester Trenoweth came between them. Then, when the dread
of the missing document was removed, he persuaded himself to sacrifice
conscience to passion. His resolution was increased ten-fold by the
knowledge that Lady Hester loved Giovanni. Arthur's keen eye had
detected her secret. He almost hated them both when the truth became
plain to him. "Boy," he exclaimed, at length, "I've foully wronged you;
but Jack's dead voice spoke again to-night in his melody. It led you to
me, it made me resolve to shelter you (perchance it helped to rob me of
her); but to-night it preached repentance. Take Hester and be happy.
I can claim a younger brother's portion, and I have my profession to
return to, though a selfish life has blunted that weapon I fear. Boy,
say you don't hate me!"
Giovanni's warm Italian blood drove him to a demonstration impossible
to an Englishman.
[Illustration: "I HATE YOU? NEVER!"]
"Uncle Arthur, _I_ hate you? Never! Oh, I've robbed you sorely, I
fear! It's a poor return for what you've done for me. Though you've
erred, you've more than atoned for your error, which has done me no
great harm, and you shall _never_ leave me, _never_." The men embraced
silently, and Arthur Dalziel's face wore a new strange softness, like
that it wore on the night he found Giovanni.
* * * * *
Old Lord Trenoweth had hard work to relish the explanations Dalziel
favoured him with next day. When, however, Dalziel mentioned the true
state of things between Hester and Giovanni, and insisted on his
consenting to their wedding, he seemed infinitely relieved. He summoned
Hester and gently told her that, as he had heard of her love for
Giovanni, he would no longer insist on her engagement to Alison.
"But," she quivered out, "I've pledged my word to marry Lord Alison."
"And so you shall," said her father. "Giovanni is Lord Alison. There
has been a great discovery."
But Hester never knew how long ago that discovery had taken place.
Neither did Society, who, after the first shock, smiled benignant
acquiescence, and said, "To think of its being all through that little
theme with variations that Giovanni wrote from memory. Delightfully
romantic!"
"Oh! Uncle Arthur, you're too, too kind to us," Hester said later in
the day.
But Dalziel was silent.
[Illustration: